Chapter 29
THE SALTY KISS
QUINTON
The speedboat blasts through the teal waters toward the looming shores of Sarrano. "We've got less than five hours to find her before the deadline," I say. “There’s a lot of area to cover. This town is spread out. It could take us hours. Hours we don’t have.”
Damon’s jaw clenches, and he gives me a determined nod. "I've got men on the streets. Ex-military. They'll be looking for her too."
My frown deepens. "You hired contractors? When?”
“On the plane,” he responds. “Figured we’d need the help.”
I swallow. “Do you think that's a good idea? They said no police. The last thing we need is to spook them with military personnel roaming around. They could flee and then we’d be fucked all over again."
Damon rolls his eyes. "I told them to dress like civilians. They'll blend in."
“Christ…” I sigh, staring in the approaching shoreline. "She could be anywhere, D. How are we supposed to—"
The shrill ring of Damon's phone interrupts my hopelessness. Damon frowns at the number, his posture stiffening as he answers.
"Hello?" His eyes widen, and a wildfire of emotions crosses his face as he stares at me. "It's Emery," he mouths, and I want nothing more than to lunge for the phone. She’s alive. Christ, she’s still alive.
Damon holds his hand out. Patient. I need to be fucking patient. With a shaky breath, I begrudgingly stay silent, focusing on the staticky voice sounding from the receiver. It’s her. Her voice. Emery. Oh God…
Anxiety claws at my chest as Damon calls out her name. The entire world seems to still as he listens to her, his expression shifting with each word she whispers into his ear.
When he finally drops his hand, his gaze snaps over my shoulder. "She’s…”
“What?” I demand. “What did she say? What did she—"
"Water," Damon states, telling our driver to pick up speed. "She said she's by boats."
I turn around, squinting at the nearing marina, scanning each overstocked dock with desperation. Did she escape? Did she get out? A million questions whirl around my mind.
No. Focus. Emery. Where are you, darling? Show us where you are. We’re right here.
We’re right—
And then, in the distance, a splash catches my eye. I feel the impact in every bone in my body. And I know. I know with every fiber of my being that it’s her.
"Faster!" I yell at the driver, stripping off my jacket. "Over there! Go!"
Damon’s eyes widen as he stares at the dock, at the massive waves bashing the shoreline. The wind is picking up. A storm is brewing.
“Q, what are you—”
It’s too late. As we get closer to the marina, I know what needs to be done. Boats slam against the dock as I calculate my route.
I can't wait. I can't sit still.
I dive into the cold sea, determined to get to her on time.
Before it’s too late. Before I lose her.
I will not lose her. The water isn’t a friend or an ally.
But I don’t care. I fight the icy pain that reaches deep into my weary bones, my muscles aching.
And I swim. I swim toward the promise, the hope of finding her alive.
She will be alive. There is no other option.
She is alive.
I repeat this mantra over and over again as salt water stings my eyes, momentarily blinding me as I fight against the relentless current.
I swim harder, deeper, arms pushing against the water, desperately grasping for anything. But all I find is more water. No. I will find her. She is alive. I don’t let defeat sink its claws into my heart. I keep searching. Keep fighting. For her. For us. For him.
And then…I feel it. Fabric. Glorious fucking fabric. I yank on it, her arm. Emery's arm. I clutch onto her, summoning every ounce of strength to propel up and up and up. Air. She needs air. I need air.
With one final burst of energy, I push Emery upward, and her head breaks the surface of the water.
Gasping for breath, I blink through the sting of salt water. Damon stands above us, his gaze frantic as he reaches for Emery and pulls her onto the dock.
"Blue," Damon's voice wavers, his face paling. "She's... She's..."
"Move!" I shout, hauling myself up on the wooden dock.
Kneeling beside Emery, I begin chest compressions, counting to thirty.
"Two breaths, Damon! Now!" Damon shakes as he leans forward, pressing his lips against Emery's, breathing life into her lungs.
I keep pumping, using every ounce of strength I have left. "Again!"
Nothing.
“Again.”
Please.
“Again.”
Time loses its meaning as my ears ring, my entire focus on bringing her back.
"Again!"
I ignore the fact that it's been over three minutes.
"Again!"
"Quin..."
"No!" I bark. "Again, goddamn it!”
Damon swallows, leaning over Emery. He gives her his breath, and then the most beautiful sound I've ever heard echoes around us—a cough. A string of coughs. How glorious. How magnificent.
She is alive.
My eyes well up as Damon and I place a hand on her back, propping her up.
Water sputters out of Emery’s mouth as she continues to cough and all we can do is stare at her.
Stare as color returns to her cheeks, her lips.
Stare as she opens those bright green eyes of hers.
Stare as she opens her mouth, and her angelic voice fills our ears.
“Hi,” she whispers, her exhausted gaze flitting between Damon and me. “You’re both…”
Without hesitation, Damon and I envelop her in a strong, unwavering embrace, refusing to let go. I will never let go. Ever. My heart hammers, and I fight back tears, thanking every single God in existence that we made it in time, that we fought for her, that she fought for herself.
"I’m so sorry, darling," I whisper into her sopping wet hair. "I’m so sorry for putting you in danger.”
Emery pulls away from us and manages a weak smile, her hand reaching up to touch my face then Damon's. "Don’t be sorry," she rasps. "You found me. You…” She swallows. “I didn’t know if…”
“Here.” Damon shrugs off his coat, draping it over Emery’s shoulders. “We need to warm you up.” He snaps his finger, waving over our driver. “Blankets. Bring us two blankets.”
Emery shivers from a gust of chilly wind. “Can we leave? I…” She winces, closing her eyes. “I want to leave.”
Our driver brings over two foil blankets. I sling one over myself, and Damon and I unwrap the second together, wrapping it snuggly around Emery. She narrows her eyes but doesn’t comment.
“Before we leave,” Damon says, flicking his gaze up to me.
I nod in agreement. He looks back at Emery, who frowns.
“You need to tell us where you were being held.” He places a hand on her back, rubbing up and down in slow, tender motions.
I reach for Emery’s shaking hands, cocooning them in my own.
Despite us both being cold, heat somehow manifests between our skin.
Emery looks away, lip quivering. “Emery…” Damon whispers. “Please. You need to tell us.”
“Darling,” I say, and she glances up at me, expression pained and wary. “We need you to think really hard and remember where you ran from.” I reach out, cupping her cheek, my thumb caressing her wet hairline. “Think, darling. What do you remember?”
“I…” Emery winces, her eyes squeezed shut. “Via Di Vicci.” She swallows. “Twenty-two or twenty-three or thirty-two. Something like that. It’s… It’s a house. There’s a basement. I-It has a basement.”
“I’ll go inform the captain,” Damon says, rising to his feet.
Emery’s eyes suddenly spring open and she reaches for his hand. “I…” Her panicked gaze shifts between me and Damon. “I think I…” Her bottom lip trembles. “I think I killed her.”
Damon and I exchange a dark look. “Killed who?” I ask.
“Simone,” Emery whispers, shaking her head. “I-I didn’t mean to but…” With heavy regret in her gaze, she implores us. “Please, don’t go. I don’t want you to see…” Emery buries her face into her knees. “I just want us to leave. Can we leave? Please. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“The jet’s waiting for us in Palermo,” I say, stroking her back. “We can leave, but we need to get you straight to a hospital.”
She shakes her head. “No. No hospital. I’m fine. Let’s go back to the resort. Or let’s go home. Back to New York. I… No hospitals.”
“We’re going to a hospital,” Damon states sternly. “That is not up for negotiation.”
“Can you make arrangements at St. Thompson’s in London?” I ask Damon. “Unless you prefer to take her to New York.”
“I don’t think we should go home yet,” Damon says, sending a message on his phone. “Not until we know the full extent of what happened here.” With a sigh, he glances at the entrance to the marina. “I need to relay what you said to my men.” He glances at me, slightly annoyed. “You got her?”
I nod, and he retreats. When Damon is out of earshot, Emery lifts a brow, and she doesn’t need to utter a word for me to understand exactly what she’s asking.
“I’ll explain everything later,” I say, pulling her closer to me, my arms tight around her body. My lips feather against her forehead. “You have no idea how scared we were, Emery.” My voice wavers, laced with lingering fear. “We thought we were going to lose you. We thought…”
Emery nuzzles her head into my chest, relaxing against my touch.
“I knew you’d understand my message. I knew you’d figure it out,” she whispers.
After a beat, she tips her head up, her curious gaze flitting across my face.
“You’ve said the word ‘we’ a lot.” She absentmindedly bites her bottom lip, processing its meaning.
“I can’t say I expected to see both of you today.
I mean…” Her cheeks flush just a tad. “I hoped I would, but I…” She swallows. “I don’t understand.”
My spine stiffens. I don’t know how to explain something to her I also don’t fully comprehend.
She wants answers, and yet I don’t have anything concrete to offer.
These past few days, Damon and I have had a silent understanding.
Our priority was clear. Save Emery. That was it.
That was the mission. What happens next?
What happens after? Those are questions we never posed, we never discussed.
All I know is that she is ours. Not mine.
Not his. But ours. I can hear it when she talks.
I can feel it on her skin. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at us.
There’s no champion. There’s no victor. There are only two men.
Each with a piece of her heart. What she chooses to do with those pieces is ultimately up to her.
“I love you, darling,” I whisper, stroking the wet strands of her auburn hair.
I expect her to flinch, to squirm at the proclamation, but she simply releases a long breath as if she’s been holding it since the day she was born.
“And Damon loves you too,” I add. This gets a reaction.
Her brows knit together, and I offer her a sweet, gentle smile.
“We belong to you, Emery Jones. It’s as simple as that. ”
She swallows, unsure and tentative. “The way I’ve treated you both… I don’t know if I deserve your love. I…” She closes her eyes. “I was quite cruel. I was—”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” I say, tightening my hold on her. “It’s our fault, Emery. Not yours.” She releases a small breath of relief as she glances up at me. “We… We won’t make you decide. We won’t make you choose.”
Her bottom lip quivers. “But you and Damon… You—”
“We will do anything to make you happy, darling,” I say, biting my tongue.
I shouldn’t speak for him. But I know he’d agree.
“That includes putting our differences aside. Look at me, Emery.” Her ivy-green eyes slice through all my fear, and I want nothing more than to live in those irises forever.
“We love you, and everything else, we’ll figure out later.
” I pause, kissing her forehead. “Together.”
“Ahem,” Damon clears his throat, semi-glaring down at us, his stare nowhere near as venomous as before. He’ll have to work on it. Sharing. He’s a novice. Not familiar with the word. “I hate to interrupt such a tender moment, but we’ve got a problem.”
My spine stiffens. “What?”
Damon hesitates for a moment, glimpsing at Emery with caution. “They found the house.” Emery winces. “It was empty.”